Getafilm Gallimaufry: This Is It, Wild Things, Flute-Playing Goat & Tyler Perry

[Note: This series includes scattered thoughts on various movie-related topics. I was looking for a word that started with the letter "g" that means collection or assortment, but lest you think I'm some elitist wordsmith, know that I'd never heard of "gallimaufry" and I don't even know how to say it, but it was the only other option the thesaurus provided aside from "goulash" (too foody) and "garbage" (no).]
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This Is It (A)

There's a reason why more music critics than film critics were called on to review This Is It: a good 90% of the footage in this documentary is singing and dancing, not storytelling. You should know that if you're not already a Michael Jackson fan, because if you aren't then I imagine This Is It would be about as enjoyable as a John Tesh concert film (and if you don't like MJ then one can reasonably assume your musical tastes are that...tragic).

The truth is that there is almost no insight whatsoever to be drawn about the King of Pop from This Is It; it's simply two hours of evidence that Michael Jackson was one of the greatest performers to step onto a stage. Ever. But we already knew that, and as the closest most of us will come to ever seeing him in concert, This Is It couldn't be any more thrilling. The music is just as intoxicating as always, the dancing is just as breathtaking as always, and the passion on display from Jackson (particularly on "Earth Song" and "They Don't Really Care About Us", two of my favorites from the underrated HIStory album), is just as emotionally explosive as always. 

Furthermore, This Is It proves beyond any doubt that Jackson was not an aloof, air-headed, strung out mannequin - at least not on stage. His concentration is incredibly and consistently intense; he not only coordinates every one of his breaths, emotions, muscle movements, notes, and transition cues, but everyone else's breaths, emotions, muscle movements, notes, and transition cues. It's shocking to consider how many processes this man's mind could coordinate simultaneously.

The two regrets I'll carry with me from This Is It are that 1.) I didn't see it with a packed theater audience that may have made for a more interactive experience, and 2.) I'll never see Michael Jackson in concert, which may be for the best because for the first time in my life I think I understand how those hysterical people in the front row could entirely lose themselves in the moment.

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Where the Wild Things Are (B)

How can you fairly and accurately illustrate the collective memory of a generation? You can't, obviously, but Spike Jonze must have considered that question while he produced Where the Wild Things Are. Most people (or maybe only most Americans) between the ages of 20-40 read the book at some point during their childhood, yet I think it would be surprisingly challenging to find a consensus on why everyone enjoyed it. 

Some people loved the beasts. Some people felt like Max, lonely and misunderstood. Some people loved the jungle setting. Some people loved the idea of an imagination run wild. Some people loved the happy ending between Max and his family. Me? I guess I liked the mystery of it all, and the fun of thinking about some magical place under the moon. The picture here sums up that sentiment pretty well, and that's what I was hoping for from the movie. But that's not what I got, at least not entirely.

The spectacular cinematography, production design and visual effects in Where the Wild Things Are are among the best I've seen all year, primarily because they are so understated. As Jason Bellamy brilliantly observed in his review, "I didn’t realized how much I’d come to miss environmental tangibility in movies until I watched Jonze’s film...There’s an intimacy to these images that CGI-dominated films never match."

But while this movie had the visual magic down for me, I never felt any emotional connection to Max or any of the monsters, at least not outside of their childlike joy while running through the woods. The brooding and fuming and bickering that made up the rest of the film left me cold, and wondering if I had completely misinterpreted the book so many years ago. But how do you misinterpret a picture book?

I don't think you can - you can only interpret one differently from another person. Right?

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300 and the Flute-Playing Goat?

I managed to successfully avoid seeing 300 a couple of years ago when everybody was raving about it. I don't find violence all that enjoyable to watch, no matter how "aesthetically beautiful" Zack Snyder made it, so it was an easy skip.

I came across it on TNT  a few weeks ago, however, and found myself in the middle of a really bizarre scene. I had to look it up to see who the characters were, but this was evidently an exchange between Leonidas and some creature named Ephialtes, who the historical record shows to be a hunchback but who Snyder portrays as a literal beast alien pregnant with twins in his left shoulder.

Anyway, in the midst of this nearly unwatchable scene my eyes caught a quick glimpse of what appeared to be a goat playing the flute. It didn't really compute because I didn't think this was a science-fiction story, but at the same time I felt ignorant enough about the movie to assume that it may have been explained at another point. I wasn't going to stick around and find out, so I did a quick search to see if my eyes had deceived me. Here's what I found:

 

The description of the video from the YouTube user: "weird scene from 300. A goat llama man thing plays some instrument. I don't know about you, but there was a collective WTF from the entire theater when we saw it."

Tell me about it. Anybody have an explanation?

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A New Perspective on Tyler Perry 

Some time ago I learned that my fiance likes Tyler Perry movies. I don't know how many she's seen (and I don't think she does, either), but she finds the character of Madea actually funny. We went back and forth for a few weeks about this, me wondering what I was missing and her unsuccessfully trying to explain to me. The only Tyler Perry movie I've seen is his first, Diary of a Mad Black Woman, which I saw in the theater seven years ago, before I even knew who Perry was. But I've never warmed to his comedy stylings either on film or television, not because I find it offensive or undignified, but because I've never gone for the easy laughs produced when somebody dresses up as an overweight elderly African-American woman, whether that be Martin Lawrence, Eddie Murphy, or Tyler Perry. I can see why it's funny, but I don't find it funny.

Anyway, my impression of Tyler Perry was significantly changed a couple of weeks ago when I accidentally stumbled onto a "60 Minutes" interview with him after a Sunday football broadcast ended. The episode was highlighting Perry's achievements and the broader public ignorance about not only his commercial success (four of his films have opened #1 at the box office in the last three years alone), but about the man himself (a victim of child abuse and a high school dropout).

What struck me the most was Perry's dogged determination to bring his visions to reality after his pitches and projects were completely rejected by Hollywood producers and studios. He funded Diary with his own money (he had a long and successful career as a playwright prior to film) and has now become the first-ever black producer to own a film and television studio. Talk about laughing your way to the bank - being forced into independent production has meant that Perry keeps a huge chunk of every dollar his films gross (last year he was among the top 15 highest-paid celebrities).

So what does this all mean? That I like his movies and think he deserves to be paid hundreds of millions of dollars? Of course not. But for all the obstacles and rejection he has overcome, and for the positive messages that he is trying to send through his stories, well, I have to admit I have new respect for Tyler Perry. Even if I still don't find Madea funny.

The clips below don't tell the full story, but you can check out the full video here to see the segments where he visits his childhood home (including the cubbyhole where he hid from his abusive father) and shows off his incredible studio and production lot.